


It's Just a Cold

by plast1csould3r



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Common Cold, Domestic Fluff, M/M, relatable mood, there's a plot twist at the end lol, viktor is still a bottom lmaoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plast1csould3r/pseuds/plast1csould3r
Summary: Viktor is very sick but thank God Dyatlov is there to take care of him.





	It's Just a Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I've been very sick for a few days, so I wrote another fic about these two to feel better yay!! xD  
(Again! Thank you very much kriesgkrieg for the corrections <33)

It was late at night, Dyatlov was carrying Bryukhanov by the arm up to his apartment. He struggled to keep him standing, as well as he was trying to open the door. After a few times trying the doorknob, he finally could open it.

He rushed to his bedroom and laid Bryukhanov down on his bed, helping him to take off his shoes and tie.

-"You don't have to do this…" - Bryukhanov's voice was a little bit hoarse, but Dyatlov just ignored his command. While he kept on helping him, Bryukhanov tried to pull his arms free but he was feeling too weak.

-"Stop it… I'm trying to help you." - Dyatlov said in a quiet tone; at this, Bryukhanov let him remove the rest of his clothes and cover him with the blanket. Dyatlov was sitting next to him, grabbing one of his hands.

-"You didn't have to… " - he was weak but still managed to talk.

-"Viktor, you have to stop working till death, you know you have to rest." - Dyatlov said, Bryukhanov just smiled.

-"I already told you that I'm okay…" - he coughed a couple of times.- "It's just a cold."

-"For God's sake, Viktor! You passed out in front of your secretary! Thank God I was passing by this morning" - Dyatlov's tone was a bit angry, upset almost, but still he wasn't yelling like in his job.

-"I called you hours earlier and you went to the toilet. You weren't just ‘passing by‘." - Bryukhanov laughed softly. He was right.

Dyatlov felt something strange while grabbing his hands.

_The temperature_, he thought.

With his free hand, he touched Bryukhanov's forehead and his eyes grew wide and his expression changed to a worried one.

-"My God… You must have a fever…" - he touched Bryukhanov's neck on both sides, drenched in cold sweat.- "I'll be back." - he rushed to the kitchen to get a bowl with cold water and a towel.

When he came back to the room, he found Bryukhanov shivering a bit. He let all the things on the nightstand and sank the small towel into the water, squeezing and placing it on Bryukhanov's forehead.

-"Do you think I'm going to die?..." - Bryukhanov asked with his soft and hoarse voice. Dyatlov snorted, he knew he was being _delusional_ because of the fever.

-"No, you won't." - he replied in a calm tone. Bryukhanov grabbed his arm when he was about to change the towel and Dyatlov looked at him.

-"Stay, please." - Bryukhanov begged for the first time. He couldn't resist those puppy eyes of him and in this state. He felt his heart beating faster, but he maintained his composure.

-"I'll stay, Vitya." - Dyatlov answered, still pressing the compresses.

_ Who would have thought that one of the most serious, even hated, man in the whole Pripyat city, would be nursing the sick director of the Nuclear Power Plant? _

_____

The next morning, Bryukhanov woke up feeling his shirt wet, he sat on the bed, still feeling weak but not like yesterday. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recollect if something else had happened.

-"You're awake, excellent!" - the sound of a familiar voice, he opened his eyes to see Dyatlov with a small soup bowl. He walked into the room and Bryukhanov grabbed it. -"Be careful, it's piping hot"-.

-"Thanks…" - Bryukhanov wasn't very likely to soup; in fact, as a child he never liked it, but he had to eat it if he wanted to recover and play with the other kids. But there was something different in this soup, the flavor was more than just chicken soup, he was actually enjoying it.

Dyatlov smiled watching Bryukhanov eating the soup.- "How do you feel?" -he finally asked, breaking the silence.

-"Better." - Bryukhanov said with his mouth full of soup. - "I can go to work, I guess."- 

-"No, you can't work for a few days until you are fully recovered." - Dyatlov rolled his eyes, and he was right, he needed more rest.

Bryukhanov protested but Dyatlov insisted that he had to stay in bed and rest, finally agreeing with him.

-"But who will take my place for a few days?"- he asked Dyatlov.

-"You can call Fomin to help you out…" - Dyatlov answered.

Bryukhanov grunted at the idea.- "He's going to mess it up."-

-"And Sitnikov is going to kill me if he has to cover my shifts as well…" - Dyatlov said, trying to look for more ideas. Bryukhanov frowned.

-"Your shifts?" - he asked.

-"Someone has to take care of you." - Dyatlov said with a smile.

Bryukhanov blushed and he couldn't stop it but smile as well.- "I could kiss you… But I'm sick and you will get sick too…"-

Dyatlov went closer to him, smirking.

-"I would like to accept the risk." - Dyatlov's tempting voice made Bryukhanov laugh for a few seconds but then again gazing at each other, Dyatlov pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

______

A few weeks later, Dyatlov was in bed next to a box of tissues.

-"I told you…" - Bryukhanov repeated in a scolding tone.

-"Oh, shut up, you did love the kiss." - Dyatlov said while he sneezed.- "I'm going to need more of these." -added, waving the box of tissues.

-"Fine… I'll get you another box… And more chicken soup…" - Bryukhanov said leaving the room.


End file.
